We have put our house on the market as of last Thursday. Previously to this day we spent almost every waking moment getting the house ready to put on the market.
I guess, according to our realtor, how you live is not how you sell your house (except for my friend Sam - anyone could walk into her house at anytime and think that it was for sale - it's that clean and stylish - I have no idea why she chooses me for her friend.)
For example, the molding along the floor has to be nailed in. I tried explaining to our realtor that when it's just setting against the wall it's much easier to vacuum. The beams have to be completely painted - not halfway and no, it's not an HGTV design, it's starting a project and then not wanting to finish it. And don't even get me started on the tub in the brand new bathroom.
Okay, I have to share it. Last winter we completely gutted our downstairs bathroom (with absolutely no permits, by the way....our realtor just shook her head at that one.) Mike went to Denver to pick up all the supplies, including the new tub. It fell out of the pickup on 1-70 (major West-East freeway) in front of a state policeman. The policeman did not give him a ticket and even helped him re-load the bathtub (I know, you're thinking white trash from Oklahoma, who else drops a bathtub out of the back of a truck?) I did not know any of these until one night, after six months of bathroom remodeling,(done by two of my ESL students who apparently do not know the difference between frio and caliente, which is why the handles are backwards) I took a bath in our new, bright white luxurious tub and then went out into the garage for something. There was water leaking out from under the wall.
I guess the bathtub had cracks from falling out of the back of the pickup on 1-70 at 75 miles per hour. I found this out after I yelled at Mike to come down and look at the water in the garage. Do you ever look at your husband and have one of those moments when you really, seriously, truly cannot remember why you married him? This was one of those moments.
I said, "Well, you better fix it." and stormed indignantly off (He might have slept on the couch that night.)
Mike's first idea was to take a chainsaw and cut it apart and put a new one in.
"Uh, huh," I replied, "And how are you going to get the new one in...chop it up also?"
His second idea was to call a tub re finisher. There was one in Craig, two hours away, who on the day he was supposed to show up did not and when I called he said he was claiming bankruptcy and his lawyer has advised him not to work (Does anything in this paragraph make sense to you?)
His last idea was to have me get on the Internet and research tub refinished projects, which I did and advised him on the one I thought he should get, which he didn't. Instead he went down to the hardware store and bought a boat repair kit.
Our realtor thinks it looks fine and as long as it doesn't leak, it should be okay. This is the same realtor who thinks the molding needs to be nailed in.....
So Mike and I have been working together every weekend for the last month. Mike and I can do many things together and thoroughly enjoy each other, like hiking and fishing, taking walks, going out to dinner, normal stuff. We cannot work together. We both want to be the boss and basically this just ends up with slamming ladders and phrases such as "No, I do not need your help."(And other phrases under your breath.)
Our house is up for sale and it snowed about 8 inches last night, which is good because if someone comes out this weekend to look maybe they won't notice that the paint on the garage trim is a different green than the green around the windows - Mike thinks green is green.
Don't even get me started.
No comments:
Post a Comment